


Surprise, Surprise

by In_love_with_writing002



Series: When Buttercups Wither Verse [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Ghost! Jaskier, God! Jaskier, In this house we stan Lambert, Lambert says "fuck" a lot, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, recovering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_love_with_writing002/pseuds/In_love_with_writing002
Summary: Jaskier is very pleased about his physical form, but he's not having as much fun with it as he thought he would.
Relationships: Jaskier & Humanity, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert
Series: When Buttercups Wither Verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787980
Comments: 89
Kudos: 645





	Surprise, Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, my name is Love and I make big strong men cry.
> 
> TW: mentions of suicidal thoughts

Shocking people with his presence never gets old, to Jaskier. Other than an unfortunate incident with an elderly man, there’s a thrill at seeing the surprise on their face. He never manages to surprise Witchers unfortunately, their noses already fine-tuned to his scent.

Jaskier thinks they’ll be surprised to see him after all this time, but other than Geralt, they all seem to accept his explanation without another word. Jaskier isn’t surprised, Witchers don’t make a habit of thanking people, but he can’t help but feel a little like he ought to get more surprise.

It feels selfish, and Jaskier tries to cast the emotion aside, but every time he helps a new man now, it’s the same indifference. A fascinated “hm,” from Coën was the best he’d gotten, but still, he’d wanted more out of it.

Jaskier is headed towards Oxenfurt on a search for a better-suited pair of trousers for his navy doublet when a tug distracts him. He follows the energy and on the other side— It’s Lambert, on the same cliff he’d met him the first time. Jaskier nearly trips over the swords resting on the ground by his camp in his hurry to get to the top and make sure Lambert is alright.

“Buttercups,” Lambert tutted. He’s sitting with his legs dangling off the edge of the cliff, but he doesn’t seem off like the previous time. If anything, he seems at peace. “Hey there, Ghost.” Jaskier smiles at the familiarity despite his nervousness. “If you’re worried I’m thinking about jumping again I’m not gonna. Just felt like coming up to see the place. Nice views.” Jaskier doesn’t speak, hoping Lambert will turn, maybe acknowledge him. And yeah, the view is nice.

The cliff is a rocky one, sparse trees growing other than the one with the log by it, which Lambert must have put there himself. It overlooks a green valley, a town resting in the heart of it, and the steep drop holds a river at its base.

“Yeah,” says Lambert, unprompted. “Just felt a little nostalgic.” He shifts a little and Jaskier catches a glimpse of what he’s holding, the same kind of wine he’d had when he was here the first time. Jaskier remembered that wine. It was a touch too bitter for his tastes.

Lambert lays back and Jaskier can see his eyes are closed, a soft look filling his features. Jaskier steps closer until he’s leaning over him.

He’s happy.

“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” Lambert says. “You used to show up all the time.”

Jaskier almost chuckles. Lambert, a decade prior, was dumb and reckless and angry. Upset by his lack of choice in his own fate, longing for a life of his choice with the knowledge that he can’t have anything else, angry for wanting to help and only being treated poorly in return.

Jaskier knew that rage inside of him and had calmed it, reminding Lambert of his value, his worth, his very important place in the world. Jaskier had also assured him he was right, that it wasn’t fair, it _really_ wasn’t, but reminded him that other people thought the same, and had helped him at least accept the weight of his mission.

Seeing Lambert calm, content, and happy makes something in Jaskier’s own mind ease, some part of his ever-present yearning for vengeance and chaos soothes, at least for now.

“Probably a good thing,” the Witcher sighs, and Jaskier watches him open his eyes slowly.

He blinks once.

Twice.

“What?”

“Hi, Lambert,” Jaskier says. Lambert scrambles away from him, reaching around frantically for a weapon before realizing he left his swords at the camp. “Woah!” Jaskier shouts, seeing him begin to make the sign for _igni_. “Lambert, calm down.”

“Who the fuck are you?” He nearly shouts it. “And how the fuck do you know who I am?” He’s left the bottle of wine behind, and Jaskier feels it tap his foot. He bends down and picks it up, trying his best to look calm. His nerves are still shot though, and he’s not sure surprising a Witcher is something he wants to do anymore.

“This was what you gave me as a gift when I met you.” Jaskier turns it around in his hands. “You were standing on the edge here hating yourself, thinking that you might be better off dead. You told me you didn’t think the afterlife would be very kind to Witchers.” He looks up and sees Lambert has started to relax.

_“Buttercup?”_ He asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

“Jaskier, if you will,” he replies. He starts to say something else but the words are silenced when Lambert _tackles him._ Jaskier lands flat on the ground, and there’s a hand on his throat, not squeezing, but pinning him in place while Lambert… sniffs him, apparently.

“It _is_ you. You’re not human,” Lambert comments when his nose is pressed to the space behind his ear. Jaskier thinks it’s far too intimate, and attempts to diffuse the situation quickly.

“I’m a _god_ , and you are _heavy_!”

Lambert keeps him pinned, sniffing a spot on his cheek. Jaskier wants to shove him away, and reaches up to push him, finding him much lighter than he expected. Did gods get extra strength? He rolls until Lambert is under him, the Witcher staring up at him with shocked but excited eyes.

“You’re a _god_?” Lambert asks, breathless from the tussle. “That just doesn’t seem _fair_.”

“Well,” Jaskier says, feeling a little out of breath himself. “It’s a long story—“ he’s interrupted when Lambert flips him again, straddling him and holding his wrists in his hands.

“I’ve got time,” Lambert quips. Jaskier wants to be upset, wants to be shocked, wants to be embarrassed about their position, but all he can feel is joy, breathless, hysterical, and it makes him laugh, he lets his head fall into the dirt and the sound comes uninhibited out of his chest. He sees Lambert grin and even he starts to laugh.

Jaskier wasn’t going crazy, he thinks. He was getting more hung up on Witchers not reacting to his physical presence than he thought, and Lambert has squashed any of the worry he had before in a show of aggressive surprise. The relief is immediate and overwhelming, and combined with the adrenaline of their little squabble, it sends his heart soaring.

Lambert’s grip relaxes and they’re hugging, and he’s not saying it but he can almost hear Lambert’s voice saying how happy he is that Jaskier is real, thanking him for all of his help, and Jaskier basks in the feelings wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t expect Lambert to actually say anything, but he seems to be full of surprises—

“I thought I was fucking insane, you know?” Lambert presses his face into Jaskier’s neck. “I thought I’d officially lost it, talking to nothing, putting out gifts for someone when I never knew for sure if there was even someone there.” Jaskier can feel tears falling onto his neck, and his eyes get a little misty as well. “Thank you for _being here,_ Jaskier.”

Jaskier had hoped that other Witchers would react like this to seeing him, but now that he’s faced with it he isn’t sure how to respond. Lambert made it easy to want to help, and to want to be there for him. But under the literal weight of his gratitude, Jaskier doesn’t know what to say. ‘You’re welcome’ just isn’t enough.

“You too, Lambert,” Jaskier says instead. Lambert did nearly die, after all. If not for Jaskier’s interference over the year he might have been dead now, but it was Lambert’s will to live that brought him to this better, happier place where he could face his demons head on with only nostalgia in place of his sadness. Jaskier closes his eyes and relaxes. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on Tumblr as [In-love-with-writing002](https://in-love-with-writing002.tumblr.com/)


End file.
